Flash Mob
by boswifedeb
Summary: What happened when the bosses of America's top five mafia crime families came together for a meeting in Los Angeles? That's what Matt is asked to help find out when a heavily guarded meeting goes badly wrong. Immediately follows "Cicero". Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

" **Flash Mob"**

 _**Immediately follows "Cicero".**_

" _ **Leave the gun. Take the cannoli."  
Character Peter Clemenza in "The Godfather"**_

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **Glendale, California 1:00 PM**

"Paulie, good to see you." The two men shook hands in the conference room. If not for the lack of windows, one would have thought it an ordinary place to do business. The truth however, was that it was in a private underground room in a wine storage facility in Glendale, California and the two men greeting each other were more than just ordinary businessmen. Paul "Paulie" Giordani was a member of the New Orleans crime family and had traveled from the southern city for the top secret meeting with members of the other major crime families in the country. Such meetings rarely took place anymore after so many instances of government agent infiltration. The fact that it was happening showed the trust that the families had in the current head of the Los Angeles family, Johnny De Fiore. Over the years De Fiore had risen through the ranks mostly untouched by law enforcement. He was a calming influence in a city that was overrun by street gangs, and one of the few people who could move freely down any street of the city without fear; the gangs had learned that even if they couldn't respect each other they had better respect De Fiore or pay a deadly price.

"Johnny, you look good. I should be so lucky to have the beaches." Giordani, although cautious of his fellow crime bosses, genuinely liked De Fiore.

"Who has time to go to the beaches?" The Los Angeles don shook his head and offered the visiting don a drink as the elevator chimed once again. "Looks like Don Sarto found us in the cave." He smiled at the chubby Italian from Chicago who emerged from the elevator carefully looking around. "Don't worry, Pete – you're safe here." Crossing the room he shook hands with the head of the Chicago family. "I hope you had a good flight."

"Yeah, yeah...it was fine. Thanks for the little welcoming committee you had on board." He winked as the pair laughed about the two women that De Fiore had sent to accompany the don to the West Coast. "I hope those two will be going back to Chicago with me. I'm sure I could find a couple of positions for them." All three men laughed then. "Paulie, how ya doin'?" He shook hands with Giordani.

"Can't complain. Johnny sure knows how to pick the flight attendants, hey?" They laughed again as the elevator doors opened once again and Mario Bassinelli of the Miami family exited. "Welcome to the dungeon, Mario."

"Hey, how ya doin'?" All four shook hands and exchanged greetings.

Looking at his watch De Fiore frowned. The last member of the group was late and had a reputation not only for his grand entrances, but the bad temper that had earned him a reputation as a don to be respected and feared. Christian Albricci, don of the Brooklyn family, was the newest to the group. De Fiore had met him only once before and hadn't been overly impressed. That opinion he kept to himself. Five minutes later the elevator deposited Albricci and three of his most trusted men in the subterranean meeting room.

"And now we're complete. Welcome, Don Albricci." He greeted the last member before turning to one of his own men. "Raoul, make sure we're not disturbed." He smiled and the man quietly nodded and entered the elevator, riding back up to the ground floor of the facility where he and some of the other members of the families would stand guard. There was no other entrance into the lower level except for a stair well which was also being carefully guarded by representatives of each of the families.

"Gentlemen, may I offer you a refill? And you Don Albricci – what may I get for you?"

"Nothin'." Albricci peered around the room as he stalked over to the table where the group was to discuss the business at hand. The other four helped themselves to drinks and took a seat at the table.

De Fiore smiled at the group. "It's good to see all of you again. Our dear Uncle Sam has made meetings like this nearly impossible – but not completely. I stumbled across this little gem accidentally while looking for a good place to keep my wine collection. The owner was anxious to sell it seems." Another quick smile and laugh was was met with good humor by all but Albricci who simply stared at him. "Now, down to business..."

 **Central Police Precinct, Downtown Los Angeles**

"So you got the cast off – congratulations. Now: don't do it again. As a matter of fact..."

"Michael, I know we spend a good bit of time together but believe me – we're _not_ married." Private investigator Matt Houston took a seat in the chair across from Lieutenant Michael Hoyt in the LAPD detective's office.

"I'm just saying..."

"I'd rather you didn't." Matt took a sip from the coffee cup that he had filled up as soon as he got to the fourth floor offices. "Uncle Roy said you had some files for me to look at?"

"If you think you can turn the pages without getting a paper cut." The cop smirked as he tossed a stack of folders across the desk to his friend.

"You're a fiesty one today...guess you remembered to take your vitamins huh, Gramps?" The PI brought out the nickname that was sure to rile the cop.

"Cute, PI. Just look at the files." Hoyt went back to the paperwork that he had been attempting to wade through when Houston had shown up to his office a couple of minutes earlier. Although the two teased each other mercilessly, they were as close as brothers these days – something that had seemed like an impossibility when they first met a few years earlier. The good-natured ribbing was a natural part of the relationship and something that both enjoyed.

Houston took another long sip of the coffee before moving his six-foot-three-inch frame to the couch in the corner of the office – his usual place when working with the cop. After propping his long legs up he opened the file on the top and began reading. Several minutes later he closed the last file. "Alright, I read 'em. Now what?" He chucked the folders onto the coffee table in front of him and picked up the coffee cup again.

"Did you see any similarities there?" Michael leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Uh huh – four dead guys. Two shot, one stabbed, and one run over by a food truck."

"You're in a good mood today. Smart aleck. Did you notice anything else?"

"They all had records. Three of them have done time. Food truck guy hadn't been to the joint, but really – getting run over by a tofu food truck isn't much of a way to go is it?" He gave the cop a smirk and saw the irritability starting to show on his face. "No, not really. From what I saw they didn't have ties to each other; moved in different circles. They died in different areas of the city." He shrugged. "Is there something I'm not seeing?"

"No – but the captain has it in his head that they're somehow related and has been hounding me about them."

The coffee cup stopped it's journey halfway to his mouth. "What's got him in watchdog mode?"

"Hell if I know. Sure wish he wasn't. He's driving me crazy." Hoyt got up and stretched, moving over to look out the window.

The PI sipped coffee quietly for a minute. "Think it's because he's getting close to retirement?"

"Don't know." Blowing out a sigh, Hoyt turned and leaned against the window ledge.

Looking down into the cup and then up at his friend, a thought occurred to Matt. "Are they thinking of bumping you up a paygrade?"

"Doubtful. I don't play the political game very well."

"Hmm...guess that's in your permanent record: _"does not play well with others"_."

"Look who's talking." Hoyt smiled then. "I told him I would get your opinion on it. Maybe he'll shut up about it now."

"Guess what they say isn't true..." Matt drank more of the coffee, a smile on his face behind the cup.

"What's that?"

"That tofu is good for you."

"How does CJ put up with you?" Hoyt walked over and picked up the files, swatting at the man before returning them to his desk.

"No complaints. And it's three years of married bliss now." Houston gave the cop a mocking smile as he pointed at the ring on his left hand.

"She's a saint."

"Oh, you might not say that if you knew about what happened while we were in Tahiti last week..." The perverted laugh made the cop crack up as well. It was then that the PI's phone rang. "Hey, Rich."

"Houston, did you get the cast off?" A harried-sounding Rich Holt looked over his left shoulder as he merged onto the freeway.

"Uh huh."

"Can you help us out?"

"I think so...hang on a second." Looking at Michael he spoke. "Did you need anything else?"

"Nope."

"Okay, Rich: what's up?"

"There was an explosion about five minutes ago in a storage facility in Glendale." It was then that both Hoyt's cell and office phones rang simultaneously.

"Okay."

"Not just an explosion, but there was gunfire as well. Not real sure at this point what's going on, but the boss would appreciate it if you would meet me over there."

"Sure..." He got off of the couch as both he and Hoyt headed for the door, nearly running into each other. "What's the address?" He wrote it in his notebook and skipped the elevator, going for the stairs instead and surprised as Hoyt was right behind him. "Okay, be there ASAP, bud. Guess I'll need full turnout for this one, huh?"

"Actually, you might just want to have that pistol on you." Holt dodged through the traffic.

"Okay. See ya there." Matt opened the door of the truck, retrieving the bullet proof vest and his holster and putting on both before entering the truck and going out of the parking garage. As he turned right onto Maple, Hoyt was once again right behind him and then followed him as he hit the siren and lights on the truck and went west on 5th Street. Hitting the speed dial on his phone he called his friend. "You followin' me?"

"If you're going to Glendale I am. You get a call about the explosion?"

"Yup."

"See you there then." Hoyt hung up and continued to follow the blue truck through the midday traffic and then onto the I-110. Even with the sirens the trip took longer than either man would have liked and the scene that they came to at the end of their journey took both by surprise. From outward appearances there wasn't much damage to the storage facility on Foothills Drive...unless you happened to notice the bullet holes in the vehicles parked outside and the bodies in the parking lot. "What in the hell?" The two men exchanged a puzzled look as they emerged from their vehicles and proceeded toward the crime scene tape as other emergency vehicles pulled up to the scene.

"Need to see some ID, sir." A fresh-faced young cop held up his hand to Matt who began to fumble with his wallet. He had forgotten to clip on his ID.

"He's with m-..." Hoyt started to speak when two other voices could be heard from behind them, both saying the same thing. "He's with me."

Matt turned to look in surprise and saw two more of his acquaintances: FBI agent Alex Bateaux and ATF agent Mitchell Gunterson.

"No, by God – he's with ME." Rich Holt approached the tape.

"Sir, I guess you're cleared." The cop smiled.

"Gonna need a rolodex of ID badges, Houston." Gunterson laughed as all five men pulled on gloves.

"Funny – I remember when nobody wanted to know me." Houston shook his head as they advanced into the building. "So what do we know other than this is a self storage?"

Rich took over. "I was told the fire originated in the underground wine storage area."

"It was an explosion." Mitchell led the way down the steps.

Looking over at the FBI agent quizzically, the PI spoke. "So why the hell are you here – the folks outside?"

"Yep – those are members of five of the top crime families in the country."

"Alrighty then. Sorry I asked." Fans had already been set up to blow out the smoke that had collected in the underground storage facility and other than looking slightly foggy, it seemed not to be a problem. Houston let out a low whistle as the aftermath of the blast became apparent. Five bodies were strewn about the room. "Looks like it came from the table." The splintered remains of the furniture were near the center of the room while bits of it were embedded in the bodies of the occupants. "I didn't think these guys got together much anymore, Fibby."

Bateaux shook his head. "We had no idea that they were here until one of the first responders started checking ID's."

"Guess y'all are slipping." Houston, Gunterson, and Holt all homed in on the remains of the table and began their examinations there. "Looks like..." The PI carefully took a picture with his camera before poking at some pieces of debris. "I think this might have been one of those smoke removing ashtrays."

"Source of ignition maybe..." Holt nodded. "Question is of what?"

"Guess that's why they called you, huh?" Houston gave him a wink.

"No – that's why they called _us_. I'll see what kind of trace is still around. _If_ there's still anything."

"Hmmm..."

Holt looked toward the PI. "What?"

"We've got mobsters and an explosion. Kind of brings a whole new meaning to the term flash mob." The other men groaned and Hoyt popped him on the back of the head.

Gunterson shook his head and turned over a piece of the table after Matt had taken another picture. "Kinda odd..."

"Uh huh..." While Rich began taking swabs of the table area, the others began checking out the victims as workers from the Coroner's Office entered the area.

"Tight quarters down here." Alex looked around a little nervously.

Matt nodded. "Who have we got here?"

"That appears to have been Johnny DeFiore – the head of the Los Angeles family. And with him dead, it could mean big problems around here. He kind of keeps the gangs in LA from going overboard."

Hoyt blew out a breath. "Like they aren't already bad enough."

"Believe me – after this..." Bateaux motioned around the room. "...Things may get very rough before they get better. Not only are the gangs going to go nuts, but you know the other families are going to be pointing fingers at each other. We may be in for a full scale mafia war before it's all said and done."

After taking a look at the other four dons lying dead on the floor of the conference room, Matt went back up the stairs and out to the parking lot with Bateaux who seemed relieved to be out of the basement. He watched as the agent took a deep breath and blew it out. "I take it you're not much on enclosed spaces."

"No." The agent looked at the mess around them. Vehicles and bodies alike were riddled with bulletholes. Hoyt had also emerged and waved them over to a cop who was standing inside the taped off scene, the mast trucks of every TV station and network gathering outside the tape.

"This is Hopkins – first on the scene."

"Sarge..." Houston shook the man's hand. "What do you know?"

"When we rolled up it sounded like the damn OK Corral out here. These guys were shooting it out. Juarez and I saw the last two..." He pointed to two men who now lay dead on the asphalt on opposite ends of the parking lot. "...Those two, take each other out. Guy over here was alive for a minute or so afterward." Leading the men over he pointed to a man of about Matt's age who was wearing a suit and tie, the white shirt now covered with blood. "ID says he's Angelo DiNotto from New Orleans. Wouldn't tell us squat before he went."

Hoyt took a quick tour of the parking lot, his cell phone to his ear. "All of these are rentals except for the Range Rover and the Chevy over there." He motioned over his shoulder. "I've got Jackson running the plates on them right now." Turning his attention back to his clerk, he began writing down the information. "Thanks." He disconnected the call. "They belong to De Fiore – the local don."

"So how many made it out of here alive?" Houston looked around, noticing a couple of areas where it was obvious that EMT's had been attending to patients.

"Two. One was critical and the other took a hit in the leg." Juarez spoke up. "Both were taken to Memorial."

The PI nodded and looked around once again. "So the head honchos were having a meeting down stairs and had guys guarding the stairwell and the main entrance."

"Something goes boom. Some of the guys guarding the stairwell start to go down to check on their bosses, see what happened and naturally assume that one of the other families is to blame. So they open fire on each other and so do the guys guarding the entrance upstairs." Bateaux shook his head.

"Who were the two that went to Memorial, Sarge?"

"Ricardo Columbo – he's a local – and John Angioli from Chicago. Angioli was the leg wound. He wouldn't tell us anything either."

Rich emerged from the basement carrying some evidence bags along with Gunterson and joined the others. "So..." The fire captain looked at the assembled group. "What have you guys come up with?"

"Not much." Houston looked around at the group. "Guys, we all know each other I think." There was a nod. "Can we manage to work this together without a bunch of bull?" After a quick look around there was another nod. "Everybody has their specialty. Rich and Mitchell there are our best bet for handling the explosion down below. Alex here knows about the mob bosses. And Gramps here is our local guy..." The scathing look that Hoyt gave him was met with snickers from the others.

"And you're just the lightning rod in the middle of things – as usual." Hoyt spoke up and again there was another round of snickers and nods. "Can we agree to let this knuckle head be our ring leader? He seems to be able to cover just about all of it."

"I don't have a problem with it." Holt looked around as the others nodded their agreement.

"Alright then, I suggest that Hoyt hits the hospital. See if you can get anything out of the pair that got taken there. I'll go to the office and start pulling information on all of our players here. Fibby, why don't you talk to your people and see if they can shed any light on the reason for the meeting." Bateaux nodded. "Juarez – have y'all got a list of these folks put together yet?"

"Yes sir." The patrolman followed Matt under the crime scene tape and toward the blue pickup.

"Guess all those years of herding cattle have paid off." Gunterson gave a grunt as he and Rich went toward their vehicles, both carrying evidence while Bateaux pulled out his cell phone and began on Houston's request. Hoyt watched for a moment as everyone moved into action then headed for his own car, thinking to himself that very few people would have been able to pull such a group together in such a quick manner. _Son of a gun is a born leader._


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

After getting the lengthy list of the shootout participants from the cop, Matt loaded up in his truck and went toward the office. He hit the speed dial on his phone, the call connecting with the ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains. "Hey, Lil Mama – think you can come into the office? We've got one hell of a job."

"Twenty bucks and a bag of _chicharrones_ says that it has to do with the explosion in Glendale." CJ was already gathering up her purse and keys.

"Yup. How'd you know?"

"Oh, it might have something to do with your daughter getting all excited about seeing her dad on TV a few minutes ago."

"Ah hah."

"Be there quick as I can, Cowboy."

"Love you."

"Love you more." She hung up and bent down to give Catey Rose a hug. "You be good and help Miss Sheila with your brothers, okay?"

"I will. 'Bye!" The two year old turned back to Tilly, the half Husky/half Blue Heeler that was her constant companion and guardian, babbling about Daddy and Unka Mike being on TV before going back to playing with her teddy bear and a large pile of building blocks.

Matt's next call was to his office and he heard the familiar voice of his longtime secretary answer the phone. "Houston Investigations, may I help you?"

"Don't know. I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm beyond it."

"I doubt that. What's going on, Boss?"

"We're not taking any cases right now. I'm heading there and we're most likely going to be having several folks in and out of there until we get a big mess sorted out. Did you hear about the explosion in Glendale?"

"No, I've been doing some cleaning and reorganizing here." Secretary Chris Chase was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt – a change from her normal business attire. She had been doing some spring cleaning on the office and knew that Houston wouldn't care what she wore.

"Well, you might want to check the coffee supply and put a pot on if you haven't already. We're going to have a few folks around."

"I'll do it."

"I sure appreciate it, hon. See you in a few minutes." He hung up thinking to himself that as well organized as Chris already had the office how much more could she possibly do? "Probably don't want to know." Chuckling as he realized that he was once again talking to himself, the PI worked his way through the afternoon traffic toward the office on Figueroa.

Riding up to the penthouse suite of the Houston Building, the PI worked the fingers on his right hand. The cast had been removed that morning and he was scheduled to begin some therapy sessions in two days – something he hadn't had to do when he broke his left hand about a year earlier. It had taken longer to heal up this time and the cowboy blamed it on the fact that the cast had gotten wet. Doc Metcalfe had reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger and advised him to be more careful in the future. _Maybe typing on the computer will be therapy enough._

A big smile covered his face as he exited the elevator and spied his secretary. "How's my girl Lilly doin'?" He picked up the stack of mail on the front corner of the desk.

"Getting big. She started crawling last night and freaked her daddy out." Both shared a laugh; Chris' husband Murray Chase was the CEO of Houston Industries and was known for his near-panic attacks.

"Remind me to send him a jug of moonshine before she starts walking." The rangy PI cracked up again.

"Oh, heavens no! The last thing I need is Murray taking a drink."

"Darlin', trust me – all he would have to do with this stuff is take a whiff – it'll calm him right down."

"Where in the world would you get moonshine?" She stood with her hands on her hips.

"Don't ask, don't tell. You oughta know that by now." He paused as he looked down at one of the envelopes in his hand and opened it, the secretary's laughter stopping as she saw how his right hand seemed shaky.

"You alright?"

"Uh huh." He read through the information that had arrived from Derwin Dunlap – his business partner in Mosey Games as well as the BugBytes systems. Advanced testing was due to take place in less than two months on the combat simulator that they were working on for the Department of Defense. He frowned momentarily, then stuffed the papers back into the envelope, folding it and putting it into his shirt pocket. "Better get to work in here."

"Just let me know if you need anything."

"Oh, CJ is on her way in, too."

"Good. I may need some help keeping order if you get a bunch of folks in here." She smiled as he turned and started up the steps into the office, shaking his right hand as if it was asleep. It was then that she noticed that he was wearing his holster on his left hip. The smile was replaced by a worried look.

Going behind the bar, Matt poured himself a cup of coffee and went over the back of the couch and had a seat before hitting the switch that caused the coffee table in front of him to rotate over and reveal BABY, the computer that he often used in his investigations. In a minute a familiar phrase popped up on the blinds that had closed to become a monitor for the computer: HIYA, BOSS!

"Right back at ya, BABY. Looks like you're going to be put to work before you get that upgrade we talked about." Derwin was going to have one of his top technicians do the work on Matt's computer for him. Pulling out his notebook, he began typing the first of several names into the machine.

Twenty minutes later he spoke to the computer again as he was shaking his right hand once more, trying to work out the kink in it. "May be a long night for us, girl."

"You know any other woman might be jealous if she heard her husband talking to another woman like that." CJ had come up into the office catching him by surprise.

"Any other woman but you; you know better than to be jealous." He leaned back and accepted the kiss from her, then handed her the other half of the list that Officer Juarez had given him. "My lady – your to-do list."

"I thought I was supposed to be the one to give out the honey-do list?"

"You're a modern woman; you're not supposed to be sexist." He grinned up at her, the pair exchanging another kiss as Hoyt's voice chimed into the conversation.

"Enough smooching, you two. We've got work to do." He went behind the bar and poured a cup of coffee before sitting down beside Houston on the couch.

"Gettin' bossy in his old age." Matt pulled her back down for another kiss before winking at her as he heard the predictable sigh from their friend. Turning back to the computer, he typed in another name. "Did you get anything from either one of them?"

"Not really. Columbo was already on his way to surgery when I got there. Buzz is he's got about a forty percent chance of making it. Angioli has seen too many gangster movies. Even kind of looks like Edward G. Robinson." Doing his best impression of the well-known actor he added, "He ain't sayin' nuttin', copper."

"Bet he's already got a lawyer on the way in from Chicago, too." Houston shook his head.

"What have you got?" Hoyt leaned back and took a sip of coffee.

"Pretty much a who's-who of the mob world. I started with the New York folks. Albricci..." He paused as he pulled up a picture of the now-dead Mafia boss. "...has been head of the family for a little over a year. He was voted in when the last don – Calabrezi – died from cancer. Got a reputation as somewhat of a drama king: likes to play it up apparently. But the number of people that he's suspected of taking out over the years isn't anything to laugh about. He's just been good enough and lucky enough to have the right lawyers that managed to get things taken care of for him." The reply was a grunt as the cop downed more of the coffee. "His right hand man is Luciano Greco..." Another picture appeared up on the screen as the PI hit a few more keys. "He's still in New York. Thought I would learn a little about the organization of each branch as I went along. Might help to point to whoever decided to liven up the meeting. Anyway, this guy has been nicknamed _Il gatto_ \- the cat. Apparently he's rumored to have nine lives, two of which were reportedly used when he got shot by a couple of jealous husbands when he was younger."

"Sounds like somebody else I know." Hoyt chuckled thinking back to the PI's reputation as a lady's man in the years preceeding his marriage to CJ.

"Cute. He's also been in several close calls because of his chosen profession. He was injured in a bank heist that he helped to pull off about twenty years ago. Never did any time for it though."

"Lawyers?"

"Yep."

"Umph." The cop shook his head. "So is Greco a shoe-in for the top dog spot?"

"Don't know – him being second in command you would think that, but we both know that if they're anything, the mob is unpredictable at best."

Another voice joined the group as FBI agent Alex Bateaux poured himself some coffee. "That they are – apparently there is quite a discussion going on in New York after they learned of Albricci's sudden demise."

"Oh goody – they've started already." Hoyt drank down more coffee.

"As somebody who's dealt with them before I can tell you that the clawing for position within the ranks never really stops: it just quiets down. Someone is always looking for a way to get the chair at the head of the table."

"But no idea of who might have planned the explosion?"

"Nope – not yet. We've put agents in each of the cities on overtime right now trying to catch as much chatter as they can and others sifting through it." Bateaux had a seat next to Hoyt after stepping over the back of the couch. He watched as Houston began moving on down through the list. "We're also trying to nail down the exact location of each of the known members for the last forty eight hours."

"That's going to be fun." Hoyt shook his head.

A little while later, Rich and Mitchell entered the office together, both having a seat on the couch. Houston looked across at the pair. "Anything?"

"Not exactly. Best we can tell the detonation point of the explosion was the ashtray." Mitchell leaned forward and looked down the couch at the others. "Rich and I both noticed that there were the remains of cigars either on or near the bodies of all five of the dons."

"So maybe they all lit up..." Houston got up and walked over toward the windows, stretching as he did so, his right hand down at his side where he once again shook it to get rid of another kink. "And boom. Do we have any idea what fueled it?"

"Not yet. We've got techs at ATF running the parts of the ashtray for trace. When we get the rest of the pieces that were embedded in our victims from the ME, Rich has a tech that's going to try to reconstruct the ashtray."

"What's the preliminary report from the ME on cause of death?" Hoyt went back to the bar and poured himself another cup of coffee and began another pot.

"Naturally they don't like to commit this early in the game but the general consensus is trauma from the blast – but they wouldn't rule out shrapnel from the ashtray or table either." Rich yawned.

Houston sat back down, absently rubbing at the beard on his face. "That table was probably what? About six or seven feet in diameter?"

"I'd say about that." Gunterson nodded.

"Assuming that the ashtray was in the middle of the table..." The PI thought about it for a minute. "Wait a minute. Who owns the storage facility?"

Hoyt piped up. "De Fiore bought it about six months ago."

"And that underground area was strictly for housing wine?"

"Yep."

"So it was most likely equipped with climate controls – folks are awful picky about how their wine is stored – especially collectors."

"So I've been told." The cop nodded.

"What about a manager?"

"We've got an APB out for him." Michael watched his friend. "He's nowhere to be found."

"What's his name?"

"Dale Bishop." He read off the information to Matt who began working the keyboard again.

"Lives a few miles away from the storage facility. Married, two kids ages ten and twelve..." He read through what he had on the man. "Just seems like the average guy on the street."

"I ran a check on him – absolutely no criminal background whatsoever." Hoyt took a sip and then looked up as CJ entered the room.

"Hi, guys. Hon, I found something kind of interesting about Mario Bassinelli – the don from Miami."

"What's that?"

"There have been rumors for a few weeks that he thought he had a mole in the organization. One of his men suddenly "disappeared" and there was nothing else mentioned about a mole. Things quieted down."

"And has this person reappeared?"

"No. Not that I've found."

"Fibby..." Matt looked over at the FBI agent. "This sounds like something that would be in your area of expertise."

"I'll call Miami and see what I can get." With that the agent got up and walked out onto the patio, his cell phone in hand.

"Matt..." CJ knelt down behind the couch, a hand on her husband's shoulder. "I wouldn't think that Bassinelli would take a chance on a major meeting like this if he thought he still had a mole."

"You wouldn't think. He must have been pretty sure." There was a pause. "But I gotta say, that's the most interesting tidbit we've had so far. Good job."

"I'm going back to the rest of the list. All I have left is the New Orleans folks."

"Yeah, we're about done here, too." After a big sigh, the PI picked up where he had left off: checking into the Chicago family. "Maybe we'll be able to get something out of Angioli or Columbo – if he makes it."

Over the next few hours the group finished working through the list of participants at the shootout as well as looking at the top brass of each family. Not much else of interest was found.

"Well..." Houston stood up and began walking around again, stopping to pop his back before resuming the pacing. "It seems like we're at a stopping point for the night, fellas. Until we can get something from the ME, the ashtray, or one of Alex's co-workers I think we're at a standstill. What do you say we call it a night and see what things look like in the morning?"

There was a general agreement and everyone left the office, Matt and CJ being the last two there. As they locked everything up and set the alarm, neither had much to say. On the way down to the parking garage, he put his arm around her. "Thanks for coming in and helping out."

"Well it's my company, too, pal." She buzzed his cheek. "We certainly got landed with a mess."

"Ain't that the truth."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Wednesday morning found Matt and CJ on their way into the office together. "So..." She glanced over at him as they were stopped at a light. "What did Doc Metcalfe say about your hand?" His frequent shaking and rubbing of the hand hadn't gone unnoticed, nor had the fact that he had still been wearing his holster on his left side the day before.

"It's a hand." The crooked grin appeared as he took off from the light.

"But..." She waited for more information. He didn't provide any. "What else did he say?"

"It's healed up."

"And that's why I got a call from the therapist who wanted to move your appointment up two hours." He still didn't reply. "You're having trouble with it."

"Nah..." He looked out and checked the mirror. "He's just being over cautious."

"Hon..."

"It's fine, CJ. Just...it's been in a cast for a while. I've just gotta work the kinks out of it. No big deal."

"Uh huh."

"Uh huh." He took a quick look over at her and then returned his eyes to the road in front of him.

"If I find out different..." It was then that his cell phone rang and she blew out a breath as he hit the speaker button.

"What's up, Michael?"

"We've found Dale Bishop – the manager of the storage facility. At least it's his vehicle." The cop turned to look down at what was left of the car.

"From the tone of your voice I'm going to guess that he's not in the best of shape."

"Neither is his car; both of them are in a ravine not far from where Mt. Wilson Road turns into Heninger Flats Road. He's dead."

"I'll be there ASAP." Changing lanes, he went northeast. "I did some more digging last night. Seems that there are only two employees there now besides Bishop. Both came up clean on background checks; I'm going to try to interview them today."

"Alright. See you in a few minutes." Michael hung up and waited impatiently for the CSI techs and ME's assistants to show up.

A short time later Matt pulled up and along with CJ, walked over to stand next to the lieutenant. The cop gestured down at the shattered remains of what had once been a 2011 Volvo station wagon. "I would say good morning, but it doesn't appear to be one."

"Better for some than for others. Have you gone down to take a look at it?"

"Nope – the fire department had to go on another call and I don't have the gear..." He stopped as Matt turned back toward his truck. "Deja vu all over again." He watched as the PI moved his truck past the crime scene tape. It wasn't the first time he had gone rapelling at a crime scene very much like the one they now encountered. "I hope there aren't any snakes this time." Looking over at CJ he caught a smile as they both thought back to a similar scene from over a year earlier.

After rigging a harness with some rope from the truck that he attached to the winch on the front, the PI began a slow descent down into the ravine as CJ helped from up above. Halfway down he stopped suddenly.

"Snake?" The cop called down worriedly.

"No..." Matt, like most rapellers, used his left hand to guide the rope and the right hand to brake – something that wasn't working out well at all with the problems he was presently encountering. After a slight adjustment, he reversed the operation and went on down.

"What's with the hand?" Hoyt looked over at CJ, unsure if she was angry or worried; the look on her face conveyed both emotions.

"According to him – absolutely nothing. Guess that's why they scheduled him for therapy on it starting tomorrow."

"He shouldn't be down there."

"Try telling him that."

"Good point." Both turned their attention back to the man who had made it down to the vehicle. "What do you see?"

"One hell of a mess." Houston knelt down and looked through what was left of the windshield of the car. "He was wearing his seatbelt...didn't do him any good, though." Shifting around to get a better look at the man behind the wheel he spoke again. "It's definitely Bishop." Leaning in a little closer he got a good look at the man's head. "Not a hundred percent sure, but I believe he had some help getting here." Pulling out his camera he began taking pictures of the scene, working his way completely around the wreckage. "Looks like some paint transfer back here on the bumper." Another couple of shots were taken as he made it to the passenger side. "Yep, he had help." He looked up at his wife, signalling for her to turn on the winch as he began his ascent. Once back at the edge of the ravine, he unclipped the carabiner from the rope and went toward the passenger side of the truck. After downloading the photos onto the laptop he moved the vehicle so that CSI tech Bob Wisnewski could go down and process the scene with the aid of another fire unit that had just arrived to help with the recovery of the vehicle. "Bob, y'all might just want to cover and transport it as is..."

"Alright." The tech waited as the rescue unit took its place to help him process the scene.

Once on the other side of the tape, Houston was joined by Michael and CJ, and the trio began looking at the images on the computer monitor. "Wow..." The lawyer shook her head.

"Looks to me like he was shot in the head. There's a hole..." Matt zoomed in on a photo of the manager's head. "...In his right temple. The left side of his head is a big mess." He considered what they were looking at for a few seconds and started to speak, but Michael beat him to it.

"I'm going to have the other two employees brought in...they might be in danger as well."

"You read my mind." While Hoyt made the phone call, Matt opened the tool box on the truck and began replacing the rope and carabiner, CJ following him.

"I want to know exactly what Metcalfe said about that hand...and don't give me another smart ass answer." Her no-nonsense attitude and tone caused him to look up, then back down quickly. She could tell he was weighing his words carefully.

Shrugging, he closed up the tool box and turned his full attention on her. "He said there might be a little nerve damage. Don't know yet."

"And you told me he was being over cautious?!" Her voice was raised slightly, something that didn't go unnoticed by Hoyt. He knew the pair rarely argued; they usually thought and acted as one. And the tone that the lawyer had caused him to turn and head the other way. CJ was rarely angered, but when she was it wan't something he wanted to be around.

"No sense borrowing touble, Babe. We don't know yet. It's just...it's just got a few kinks in it now and then."

"What if it should _"kink"_ at just the wrong moment – say when you're in the middle of something dangerous – like going down the side of a ravine – or shooting a pistol?"

"I got down there and back didn't I?"

"You had to stop." She watched as he turned and looked back up at the edge of the roadway where the guardrail had been broken.

"He must've been moving at a pretty good clip to go through that..." Matt started up toward the railing.

"Don't change the subject, Houston." A couple of the officers present exchanged looks with each other and Hoyt, watching as she went right up the hill behind him.

Reaching the top he began taking pictures of the guard rail, noting that the only paint transfer on the wooden posts appeared to be from Bishop's car. The splintered remains of four of the short pieces of wood that held the steel rail in place were testament to the force of the impact. "There aren't any skid marks." Turning he went westward a couple of steps until he was snatched by the arm, his progress halted by CJ.

"I want an answer."

He spun around to face her. "What do you want me to say, CJ?" His voice was raised slightly and Hoyt couldn't help but look up at the pair. The Houstons were two of the most stubborn, strong-willed people that he knew and knowing how much they loved each other it was unsettling to him to witness the disagreement.

"The truth would be good."

Looking down for a minute, Matt tried to calm down. Lowering his voice to just above a whisper he replied to her. "I already told you as much as I know, Babe. We'll just have to see what happens." Looking back up and directly into her eyes, he could see the anger simmering there, but beneath that was worry. "I'm okay. You know I can handle it." Turning away from her again, he searched along the roadway looking for anything that might clue them in on the other vehicle that had been involved in the incident. His eyes landed on something glinting in the morning sunshine. "Hoyt!" Quickening his pace he crossed the dirt road and carefully looked around. "It's a damn wonder it's still here." He looked up as the cop approached. "We've got a shell casing. Wonder if there have been any more that got run over or blown off the road?"

"Damn it..." Michael called down to let Wisnewski know what had been found, then barked at a couple of nearby officers to move the barricade back another four hundred feet and to be sure to look for shell casings.

"It's a 9mm." Houston began looking along the edge of the road carefully heading westward as Hoyt followed suit on the opposite side of the road.

CJ stayed where she was, watching her husband do what he was so good at – investigating a crime – but wondered if maybe it was time for him to hang it up. She had never made a demand of him to change his life; knowing him like she did and knowing why he did what he did and how stubborn he was to boot, she had never asked for him to change. Now the thought entered her mind. They had discussed it a couple of times before but it had always been him that had brought up the subject.

After checking further down the road, the two friends walked slowly back toward the spot where Bishop's car had left the road. "Bishop lives near here, but this isn't on his way to or from work; and since the storage facility is shut down right now..." Hoyt began speaking what he had been thinking all morning.

"And then there's the fact that we don't know when this happened." Matt looked toward the splintered guard rail posts. "Could've been before or after the explosion. The ME will have to give us a timeline to work from. Have you talked to Bateaux or any of the others?"

"I left Alex a message and Gunterson was getting ready to go to court. I thought I would let you call Rich." Both men stopped as Matt pulled out his phone, the cop noticing that the PI's hand was slightly shaky.

Waiting for the call to go through, Matt caught the cop looking at his hand. "Please don't start."

"We're just worried about you."

Nodding, he spoke into the phone. "Rich, we've had a development..." As he continued to scan the ground, the PI filled in the Fire Investigator.

"Maybe he knew too much, huh?" Rich had just made it in to his office after an early morning call to a suspicious blaze and hadn't even had time to get into his chair.

"Could be. Just thought I would give you a head's up."

"I appreciate it. Yoshi is supposed to be getting to work on reconstructing the ashtray today. Saw him in the parking lot a minute ago."

"Good. Well, that's all I have right now. Talk to you later." Hanging up, he put the phone back into his shirt pocket. They were still a short distance away from CJ who was studying the posts and looking down into the ravine as a wrecker pulled up to the scene.

"You two going to be okay?" Hoyt kept his voice low.

"Yeah..." They walked over to where she stood and Matt wrapped his arm around her waist giving her a little hug that was returned in kind – a relief for the cop who watched the pair.

"You have to wonder what he was doing up here." CJ watched as cables were connected to the wreckage. "From the way the posts look you were right, hon – he was moving on. This road doesn't exactly lend itself to high speeds. It looks like he was trying to get away from them."

"Yep. But there's nothing in his history that shows that he had anything to do with any of our players aside from the fact that he managed the storage place for De Fiore. He also managed it for the former owner. Maybe we should talk to her and see what she has to say about him and selling the business."

"I beat you to that one – I asked Larry to bring her in to the station, too." Hoyt grinned at the pair.

"Lookathere, Gramps has still got a trick or two up his sleeve."

"Shut up, PI." Turning toward his car, the lieutenant looked back over his shoulder. "See you at the station." As he put the key in the ignition he looked up to find the couple going toward the truck holding hands and blew out a grateful sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Sergeant Larry Carlisle stood outside the door of the interrogation room where Sharon Plessy sat impatiently. When she wasn't texting someone, she was tapping her lighter on the table and the veteran cop couldn't help wondering if she was always so agitated or if the investigation that was now underway had something to do with her behavior. Twenty minutes after receiving the call from Hoyt to go pick her up and bring her in for questioning he had shown up on her doorstep along with his partner Tim Newhall. It took both of them to convince her that it was in her best interest to accompany them to the station. She had made a couple of calls to her lawyer's office only to be told both times that he would be in court all day and wouldn't be available. Something just seemed odd about her and after so many years on the force, the sergeant had a well-developed ability to read people.

Hoyt stepped off of the elevator with the Houstons and came partway down the hallway where Carlisle stood guarding the doorway, motioning for him to come to his office. "Stay here, Tim; keep a good eye on her and don't let her out for nothin'. Understand?"

"Yep." Newhall nodded.

When Larry reached the coffee pot where the lieutenant was pouring two cups he spied the couple inside of Hoyt's office and knew from the expression on Houston's face that the conversation he was having with his wife was a serious one.

"Have a cup, Sarge." Michael handed over one of the coffees and turned to lean against the wall. "I want to give them a minute."

"Something wrong?" Carlisle took a sip of the coffee and reached for the creamer that sat next to the coffee pot, stirring it in until it reached the desired color.

"Little disagreement earlier."

"Doesn't look like they're disagreeing now." Smiling as he took a sip he saw the lieutenant's face as he looked inside and saw the pair kissing.

"Thank goodness." Hoyt took another sip. "When they get into it it kind of reminds me of when my mom and dad would have an argument – scares the crap out of me." He saw the smirk on the older man's face and changed the subject. "What's your impression of Plessy?"

"She's not happy to be here; tried the calling the lawyer deal – ain't happening. He's in court."

"Anything else?"

After a long swallow of the hot liquid he motioned down the hallway. "Likes to text, is pissed because she can't smoke here..." He saw the detective's expression. "Something just seems off. She's kinda jumpy – I get the impression that maybe she knows something, though. But I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you get told to kiss off until her lawyer is available."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Hoyt snuck a glance into the office where the couple was still in each others' arms kissing. "Guess I better interrupt them before they close they blinds." He rolled his eyes as Carlisle chuckled behind the styrofoam cup. Just then his cell phone rang. "What have you got, Cheryl?"

"Some doctored footage from the storage place." The tech was sitting two floors up at her desk and swiveling agitatedly in the chair. "It was conveniently turned off about noon yesterday."

"So we've got absolutely nothing video wise?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Okay, thanks for taking a look at it."

"Oh, I'm not done yet. I'm going to see if I can find anything else on what I do have. I've got about three days worth."

"Good. Have you talked to Bob this morning?"

"He told me the manager was dead in his car up on Mt. Wilson Road. All the more reason to go back in the footage."

"You're the best."

"I'll be sure to pass that on to Bob. Call you if I find something." She hung up and began scanning the images in front of her.

Larry and Hoyt walked into the lieutenant's office and after exchanging greetings with the sergeant, Matt grabbed a cup of coffee and they all went down the hall, CJ and Carlisle going into the adjoining room to watch the conversation while Matt and Michael went in to have a chat with Plessy. Hoyt started off the conversation first by thanking her for coming to speak with them and then by asking her how she had come to sell the storage business to De Fiore.

"I don't see that it's really any of your business." Plessy eyed both men. Matt remained silent sitting across the table with his feet propped up on the corner as was his custom. He watched her over the rim of the coffee cup.

"Ordinarily I would agree with you, Ms. Plessy. But considering what has happened in the last twenty four hours, it does make us wonder."

"I don't have anything to do with that business any more. What happened there is of absolutely no concern to me."

"What can you tell me about Dale Bishop?" Hoyt tried another approach. No information had been released about the death of Bishop and he was anxious to see what, if any, reaction she might have to the revelation that her former employee was dead.

"He managed the place for me. I put him in charge of the day to day operations."

"Uh huh. So he's a good manager?"

"Obviously or he wouldn't have been there for very long."

"What do you know about him personally? Any financial or personal problems?"

"I wouldn't know. Honestly, I can't understand why you sent that patrol car for me. It's been months since I sold the place."

"Did you recommend Mr. Bishop to the new owner?"

"Not really." She looked across at Matt who had been watching her the whole time with absolutely no expression on his face at all and hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

"What about the other employees? How many did you have working there when you owned it?"

"There were four. Dale, Lewis Gonzales, Ronnie Pilkins, and Blaine Richey."

Matt knew that Blaine Richey was the only one that was no longer employed there. He momentarily took his eyes off of Plessy and stared at the mirror, knowing that CJ was on the other side.

In the observation room, the lawyer removed the laptop from the case that she had brought up with her and began working the keyboard, knowing without a doubt that her husband wanted information on Richey. Larry watched as her fingers flew across the keyboard. In a couple of minutes she was sending her husband a text. _Richey has dropped off the radar since De Fiore took over._ As she set the phone down she continued looking for more information on the man. "Very interesting..."

"What's that?" The sergeant kicked back in the chair and nodded as she passed on what she had found. "Hmmm...wonder if he up and left of his own free will or if his new boss got rid of him?"

"Don't know. He was single, thirty two years old, and lived a few miles from the storage facility. It looks like he was there one day and gone the next." She went through records of the sale of the business. "Plessy sold the business in August...the sixth to be exact..." Working through the information she paused again. "And made a pretty penny on the deal according to the property records. That's highly unusual."

"For a mob guy to pay somebody a premium price? Uh huh." Larry had been around long enough to know that connected people rarely over paid for anything. "Something sure seems outta whack here."

"Uh huh..." CJ continued looking for Richey and couldn't find a trace of him anywhere.

Inside the interrogation room, Matt had received the message and went back to staring across the table at Plessy who was clearly loosing all patience at that point. "Honestly, I don't know what you people want. And unless you plan on charging me with something..."

Matt finally spoke up. "Have you talked to Blaine Richey lately?" His eyes were locked across the table on hers and there was a faint flicker of something when he spoke the name, but it lasted only a split second and he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

"Blaine? No. Why would I?"

"Just wondered."

"Okay, that's it." She stood up and began rummaging in her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"You can't smoke in here." Hoyt watched her.

"Your officer made that abundantly clear already, Lieutenant. Now if you'll excuse me..." She went to the door and found her pathway blocked by Tim Newhall.

"Lieutenant?" The young cop stayed where he was.

"Let her go, Tim." Houston interrupted Hoyt who was about to haul her back into the room and now gave the PI an exasperated look. Stepping away from the door the officer let her pass and noticed the look of irritation that passed between the lieutenant and Houston.

Michael stood up and scooted up his chair as the irate woman stormed to the elevator. He waited a few seconds before speaking. "What exactly do you think you're doing, Houston?"

"Just trying to see how she would react."

"And?"

"She didn't really seem upset at the fact that Blaine is missing, did she? Or surprised for that matter." Both men went out into the hallway and were met a second later by CJ and Larry. "Nobody gets a deal like that from the mob, Michael. So maybe he wasn't actually paying her."

"Maybe the money was coming right back to him?" Larry had been slightly confused by the PI's line of questioning, but knew that he had a good reason for it nonetheless.

"Uh huh. CJ, we need to look into the world of Sharon Plessy a little closer." He wrapped an arm around her waist and they went to the elevator, leaving Michael to ponder over what he had just said as Larry downed the rest of his coffee.

"Anything else, LT?" The older cop tossed his cup in a nearby trash can.

"No, that's all, Sarge. Thanks for your help."

"C'mon, kid. Back to the grind."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

When Matt and CJ emerged from the elevator at the office of Houston Investigations, Chris was coming back down the steps from the main part of the office. "Houston, Rich and Mitchell just got here; they're out on the patio."

"Thanks." He leaned over and gave CJ a peck on the cheek as they reached the top of the stairs. As he went out onto the patio, she went straight for the couch and brought up the computer, watching as her husband began talking to the the two men outside before beginning her all-out assault into the life of Sharon Plessy.

"Got some interesting news about the ash tray." Rich and Mitchell watched as Matt took the file and began reading through it, nodding as he got to the end of the short report.

"Kinda wondered if it might have been C-4. At first I had thought maybe the cigars had something to do with ignition, but it takes a detonator for that. Now we know." The ATF lab said that the ashtray, which was desiged to remove the smoke from the air, had contained C-4 in the battery compartment and the remains of a tiny detonator that featured a small cell phone had also been pieced together. "So your lab folks think that it was set off by a cell phone."

"Uh huh."

"Any idea what cell phone?"

"Not yet. They're still working on it." Mitchell watched as the PI nodded again and tossed the file back on the table. "So what happened with Bishop?" Both men listened as Matt ran through what they had found and about the interview with Sharon Plessy. He looked up as CJ came to the door of the patio.

"I think we might have just hit paydirt, guys." Motioning them inside she led the way back to the couch. "Sharon's sister Ashlyn used to date De Fiore several years back."

"Okay..." Rich sat down as did the other two. "And?"

"They were an item up until her car was found in a ravine off of Upper Tujunga Canyon Road..."

"Which is what – about an hour or so north of where we found Bishop this morning?" Houston looked up at the map that she now pulled up showing the locations of both incidents. "Nothing like a coincidence, is there? What have you got on that one?"

"A lot of the same as what we found this morning except for the fact that Ashlyn had a reputation as a party girl and had been popped for DUI a couple of times in the months before her death. It was ruled an accident."

"What did the ME's report say about her blood alcohol level?" Rich watched as she pulled up the information.

"It was .02."

"So way under the limit. Hmph." The fire inspector shook his head. "When was this?"

"About five years ago."

"Figures. That was back when we had the other ME." Matt stood up and began pacing around. "Babe, get Sharon Plessy's phone records for the last month."

Rich cut his eyes over at the man. "You know..."

"Yeah, I know...but I also know that we can get the search warrant later." The PI went back to pacing, shaking the right hand once again.

"Okay...got 'em." CJ looked up at her husband.

"Check to see if there was any activity on it about 1:00 yesterday afternoon."

"There was..." She brought up the information for the call. "It was a short call...listed as one minute."

"What number was called?"

"818-555-9158."

"I'll give that to the lab rats." Mitchell called the ATF lab and passed on the information to one of the techs working the case.

Matt continued to pace, looking up as Alex Bateaux came into the office. "Damn continuances. Do we have anything new?" Hoyt came in after him.

"You could say that. CJ, tell 'em what you found." He walked out onto the patio and continued his pacing out in the sunshine.

Bateaux listened and then let out a low whistle. "So the plot thickens..." He paused. "We, uh..." He paused momentarily. "We didn't have a search warrant for the phone information...did we?"

"Not as of yet, no." CJ leaned back on the couch.

"That's what I thought. Well..." The FBI agent looked across to first Michael, then Mitchell, and then Rich. "I guess we need to see about getting one." He gave a slight smile. "We might just find something useful if we do." There was a general chuckle. "Kind of got the cart before the horse, but _c'est la vie._ " Looking out he saw the disgusted look on Houston's face and watched as he continued to work the fingers on his right hand. "Folks, I think we need to go have a chat with the leader of our band of merry men...and lady of course." The group filed out onto the patio, Hoyt stopping just inside as his phone rang.

"Looks like it might be starting to come together." Alex took a seat at the table. Houston's only reply was a nod. "But I get the sense that you're not altogether pleased?"

"Oh, I'm glad it's coming together – I just wish..." The PI shook his head and went back to pacing. "I've got a really bad habit that I've tried to get out of but sometimes..."

"Old habits die hard, Houston." Gunterson spoke up.

"Alright..." He stopped pacing. "So Plessy looks like she's involved in it up to her ears. But what's her angle? We need to see if she and De Fiore have anything in common besides her sister and the storage facility." Pausing for a minute he looked to Michael who had just joined them on the patio after finishing his phone call. "What about Lewis Gonzales and Ronnie Pilkins?"

"Lee just called me. According to their wives they were given the week off and went camping – someplace that you and Alex are kind of familiar with as a matter of fact."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh – near Mt. Whitney – just outside of Lone Pine." He watched as the FBI agent and Matt exchanged a look.

"Guess I better give Wally Simmons a call." Matt pulled out his phone and contined pacing around the patio as the call went through. "Wally – Houston. How ya doin'?" There was a pause as he listened to the Inyo County Deputy who had helped him and Bateaux take down a third generation serial killer. "Well, congratulations." There was another pause. "As a matter of fact I could use some help..." He went on to explain what was going on. "Do you think you could...?" He smiled and gave Alex a thumbs up and then told the detective the name of the two men and their destination. "Think it would be alright if I came up there and..." Pausing once again he gave a chuckle. "I'd appreciate it, bud." Looking at his watch, he spoke again. "Alright. I'll call you. Thanks." Disconnecting the call he looked at Alex. "Feel like taking a trip up to Lone Pine? I've got the new chopper that hasn't had a good work out yet." He grinned at the FBI agent.

"I don't know..." Alex shook his head, remembering their last flight together that had ended with Matt's previous helicopter being destroyed. His phone rang and after a short conversation with his boss he hung up. "The boss says I've got to take my life in my hands and fly with you again." The group all laughed. "So where is it?"

Matt pulled out his keys. "It's at the ranch. I was using it to look over the herd the other day and didn't bring it back here. Guess we get to make a short road trip. Anybody else want to go?"

"After what I just heard? No way." Rich shook his head and everyone cracked up.

"Chicken."

"Matt, I need to talk to you – privately." CJ stepped back inside and he followed her.

"Uh oh. Bet I know what that's about." Michael sighed, remembering what she had told him about the scheduled therapy session for the PI's hand.

Once inside and a short distance from the doorway, CJ turned to face her husband. "What about your therapy appointment?"

"Oh, well..." He thought for a minute. "Can you reschedule it for tomorrow or something?" Seeing the look on her face he knew that she wasn't happy with the answer. "It's starting to move a little better, Babe. Honest. See?" He wiggled his fingers, still seeing the doubt on her face. "I promise you I will go if you reschedule it."

Knowing that he always kept his word she nodded. "Just be extra careful, okay?"

"I will." Giving her a peck on the cheek he called out to Bateaux. "Fibby, are you coming or not?"

Alex came through the door. "Guess I should call my priest and get him to light a candle for me." The smirk that accompanied the statement caused the two PI's to laugh.

"I'll call you when we know something, Babe. Love you." Houston gave her another kiss, this time squeezing her hand with his right one. "See?"

"Uh huh. But you're still going tomorrow come hell or high water."

"Yes, dear." He used the hen-pecked voice and got a smile out of her before heading off to the elevator.

Hoyt and the others came back inside as Rich answered his phone. After a few seconds he hung up and went toward the elevator. "Gotta get back to my other work. Talk to you guys later." The fire investigator took off at a trot for the elevator and caught a ride down with the other two men.

"You two okay?" Michael approached CJ.

"Yeah, he's just so..." She rolled her eyes.

"Uh huh, and you wouldn't change him even if you could, now would you?" Michael grinned.

"I guess not."

"I'm going to get back to the office. Call me." Mitchell went toward the outer office leaving the pair behind.

"See you later." CJ went back over to the computer and looked through what they had gathered so far. "Michael, I think we would be wise to keep tabs on Sharon Plessy."

"I'll put Giovanni on it." He pulled out his phone and assigned his newest detective to the job and in the process was informed that he needed to respond to a call. "Looks like you're it, counselor. I've gotta go see about a nut case in Griffith Park."

"Okay. I'll nose around and see if I can find anything else out about all of our players." Sighing as the cop left, she refilled her coffee cup and had a seat in front of the computer once again. "Now...where to go from here?"

After a quick trip to the ranch, Matt and Alex boarded the helicopter and were flying northward toward Lone Pine. Speaking into the microphone attached to the headset, the PI looked around them. "Wally's going to check with the Park Service and see if they know exactly where Gonzales and Pilkins are camping."

"That would be helpful – Lord knows that's a lot of territory to have to cover."

"Yep." The short trip passed uneventfully much to the relief of Bateaux, and they were retrieving their gear from the helicopter as Wally pulled up at the airport.

"Long time, no see. How's it going, Alex?" The smiling deputy shook hands with both men. "I see you decided to test the fates and fly with him again."

"Called on St. Christopher to help me through it." The agent let out an _umph_ as Houston poked him in the ribs.

"We've got an approximate location on Gonzales and Pilkins." Leading the pair over to his Jeep, Simmons slid behind the wheel. "We tried calling their cell phones but didn't get an answer. Lot of folks turn 'em off when they get up this way. When you're looking for peace and quiet a ringing cell phone doesn't exactly help." Heading westward along Whitney Portal Road he continued. "The ranger I talked to said that they had mentioned camping along one of the creeks near where the road ends. They sent a man on up that way to try to find out exactly where they are – cut down on our time."

"Awfully nice of 'em." Matt nodded.

They reached the dead end of the road and found the truck that the ranger had been using along with two other vehicles. Wally called his contact at the Forrest Service and was told that the ranger hadn't reported in yet. After a couple of minutes the contact reported that they were unable to reach the ranger by cell phone or his radio but that it appeared that he had last been going toward Carillion Creek. After thanking her, the deputy hung up. "Looks like we get to do a little hiking."

"Not exactly dressed for the occasion are ya, bud?" Houston grinned at the FBI agent who had removed his jacket and tie but was still in the rest of the suit that he had donned that morning.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Let's go." He slapped the velcro into place on his bullet proof vest and the three started off onto the trail that led slightly northwest from the roadway where they had parked, chatting as they went.

"So tell me about your daughter's wedding." Houston was walking right next to Wally.

"Gotta say I wasn't real happy at first, not having met the fella before he popped the question." Simmons' daughter was attending San Francisco State and had fallen for a graduate student three years her senior. "They came down for about a week and we met him. Seems like a nice enough guy. And no record – I ran a background check on him." The other two men laughed. "Yeah, go ahead and laugh. When that daughter of your's falls for some guy you'll probably do the same thing – if not worse." He looked at Matt who smiled. "Anyway, they're planning a New Year's Eve wedding."

"That's one way not to forget your anniversary." Bateaux piped up, then let out with a curse in French as they hit a rough part of the trail. Matt snickered. "I heard that."

"Good. Nice to know our FBI agents have good hearing." He felt a clod of dirt as it hit the back of his vest and another curse in the foreign language was uttered.

"So what about your crew?" Wally looked over at the PI.

"They're doing fine. Kids are growing like weeds. Catey seems to enjoy being a big sister. She's always ready to let one of us know when one of the boys has a dirty diaper." The group laughed once again. "Tomás is doing great at school. I'll be glad when he gets his summer vacation, though – I miss having him around."

"What about CJ?"

"She's good. Kinda been dogging me about my hand, but other than that..."

"I was gonna ask you about the lefty-holster deal."

"Broke my hand right before Christmas and it's being a little obstinate. No biggie. She just worries too much."

"Sounds like Tammy." The deputy pointed up ahead. "Looks like somebody's camp up there. Maybe we'll get lucky and..." A shot rang out before he could finish and all three men hit the ground, their weapons drawn and at the ready.

"You alright back there, Fibby?" Houston was trying to determine exactly where the shot had come from.

"Yeah. You know Hoyt was right about you. You're like a damn lightning rod."

"I'm not sure...think maybe it came from the right side over there. That clump of three trees..." Simmons pulled out his phone and called his department and the Forrest Service for some back up.

"We're not in a very good spot to be defensive here..." Bateaux looked around them. There were lying in the dried up creek bed.

"Nope. Not the best real estate, that's for sure." The PI continued to look ahead, trying to detect any movement. "Got any ideas, Fibby?"

"Uh huh – how about we don't get shot?" The agent moved up slightly for a little better view. "I can't see squat from here."

"I think we might do a little better if we can make it up to those two trees just ahead. They would give us a little something to hide behind." Matt nodded in that direction. "Anybody care to cover me if they let loose again?"

"Well, it's not like we've got much choice is it?" Simmons gave him a grin. "Better not get shot – I don't want CJ mad at me."

"You have _no_ idea..." Houston took a deep breath. "Ready?"

"Uh huh..." Simmons' eyes swept the area ahead of them as the PI began crawling forward on his belly, a couple of shots ringing out when he was halfway to his goal. Firing back, the deputy spoke to Bateaux. "They're in the trees alright."

"Uh huh. Looks like he made it okay." Houston was now behind one of the trees and nodded in their direction, ready to cover the other two as they got ready to join him. "On three?" Alex saw the nod. "One, two, three!" Both men began scrambling and several shots rang out, some from their attacker and some from Houston. They made it over to the trees and hunkered next to the PI.

"I think I might have hit somebody up there." Matt was staring intently at the trees. "Heard a grunt."

"That might have been the Fibby here. I think he might have gotten a little dust on his socks." Simmons had almost as much fun as Houston teasing the agent.

"You two are just full of laughs aren't you?"

"Better than being full of lead." Matt glanced up at the sound of a nearby helicopter. "Sounds like our reinforcements are close." Looking back at the trees he noticed some movement. "They heard it, too."

Simmons was back on the phone with the Inyo County Sheriff's Department and had been patched through to the pilot of the helicopter informing him of where they thought the shots were coming from. "They've got a visual...said it looks like two people."

"By my count we should have Pilkins, Gonzales, and a ranger. The question is, is it Pilkins and Gonzales shooting at us or somebody else?" Houston kept watching the clump of trees. "Looks like they might be trying to go north. I don't think they're going to have too much luck with that given the terrain."

"Unless they're part mountain goat." Wally still had the pilot on the phone and lowered it slightly as he spoke again. "He says that the ranger is down outside of the tent. Can't see any other bodies."

"So it could be the two we're looking for that are shooting at us." Bateaux continued to look toward the trees.

"I don't know about you two, but I would like to get this over with ASAP." Houston was considering their limited options. "I'd also like to end this without killing anybody. We need information more than another body piling up."

Simmons jerked his head in the direction of the trees. "Tell them that."

"Believe I will." Taking a deep breath the PI stood up, still protected by the tree. "I don't know who y'all are, but we really don't want anybody else to get hurt. Just throw down your weapons and come on out with your hands in the air." There was no reply and he waited for a minute. "We've got eyes on you from the air...you know all they have to do is aim and pull the trigger from up there. Best come on out before they loose patience with you."

"Somebody is moving." Alex had shifted his position somewhat and was looking over Wally's shoulder. "Keep talking, Houston."

"What do you want me to say? Nice weather we're having?" The PI kept looking intently at the area.

"You've never been at a loss for words before."

"Shut up, Fibby." He paused, then raised his voice again. "Y'all know we've got more folks on the way. It won't get any better for you. Just come on out." There was another pause and then movement from the trees.

"We're coming out." Up ahead they could see two forms emerging from behind the trees, one supporting the other.

Wally spoke. "Looks like you were right – one of 'em got hit." He stood up, his pistol trained on the pair. "That's far enough. Down on your belly."

"He's hit."

"Get down. Now." Wally and the other two began moving out from behind the trees as the man who was supporting his wounded partner began going down to his knees.

"Something isn't right..." Matt lowered his voice and watched. "Get back behind the tree." Shots rang out as the man held the wounded person in front of him and began shooting at the trio who fired back. A shot rang out from the chopper that had been hovering above them and all fell silent save for the sound of the rotor on the aircraft. Easing out from their cover, the three friends advanced on the men. "Wally, tell your sharp-shooter up there they did good..." He kicked the pistol out of reach of the shooter who was now writhing on the ground, his right arm streaming blood.

Simmons passed the message along and then relayed the reply to Matt. "She says thank you very much."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"That's great, hon. I'm glad y'all got through it okay...Love you, too. 'Bye." CJ hung up the phone, breathing a sigh of relief.

"So everything is okay?" Chris took a sip of tea as she sat down on the loveseat in CJ's office.

"Yes and no: Matt, Wally, and Alex are fine, but a ranger was killed after he found Pilkins' and Gonzales' bodies in the tent. One of the shooters was dead on the scene and the other was taken into custody. Right now he's in surgery at Loma Linda for a gunshot wound to the arm. They're still trying to identify both of the shooters." Picking up her phone again she called Michael like Matt had asked her to and brought him up to speed.

The lieutenant slid behind the wheel of his car. "Glad they didn't get hurt. I just had an update from Giovanni a few minutes ago. Plessy has been at home all day since leaving here. And I'm on my way to Memorial to try to talk to Angioli and Colombo – if he's able. They said he made it through the surgery okay."

"I'll pass that along to the others, Michael. Talk to you later." Hanging up she went back to the computer on her desk. Like Matt, she was convinced that Sharon Plessy was a major player in the whole situation. Since he had left earlier she had been concentrating on the woman; her early days were unremarkable. It wasn't until her sister had started being noticed by the scandal sheets and gossip TV shows that Sharon began to show up on the scene. First it was as a tag along at some of the clubs with her sister, then a couple of appearances in music videos of flash-in-the-pan artists whose careers seemed to hardly last a year. But somehow her name kept being brought up and as it did, her position and wealth seemed to be on the rise, unlike her sister who began the decline rather quickly, startng with a series or torrid relationships with other would-be celebrity types who were now referred to by most in a mocking sense.

So while Sharon's finances began to climb and Ashlyn's life began going down in flames the two had become separated from each other with only one thing in common: Mafia don Johnny De Fiore. Both had dated him off and on for several years. Comparing the two sisters, CJ noticed that Sharon seemed to be his "classy" date – the one that appeared at social functions that would tend to lend him an air of legitimacy. Ashlyn, on the other hand, was more the "cheap" date.

Leaning back in her desk chair the lawyer-turned-PI compared pictures of the two side by side. While Sharon's appearance actually improved over time, her sister's quickly degraded. "Why?"

"Why what?" Chris looked up from the stack of invoices that she had been organizing.

"Sorry. I was thinking outloud." She pulled up the records relating to Ashlyn's crash on Tujunga Canyon Road. The woman's tox screen had shown the low level of alcohol in her system and absolutely nothing else. Examining the photos from the autopsy she enlarged the image on the screen, and came to a complete stop: there in front of her was a picture of the inner part of the woman's left arm – and a line of needle marks that looked fairly fresh. She read back through the transcripts of the autopsy and no mention had been made about the marks at all. "Chalk one up to our lousy former ME."

"Uh oh – not another one."

"Yep. Look at this..." CJ waited as Chris made her way around the desk and looked at the photo.

"So she was using."

"But not a single mention of it in the autopsy results."

"You're kidding."

"Nope." Working the keyboard a little more she shook her head. "And Ashlyn was cremated."

"So there's no way of going back and doing another autopsy." The secreatary shook her head.

"What worries me..." CJ stood and stretched. "...if we know about this it makes me wonder how many defense attorneys out there might know."

"You're thinking that they might throw out some convictions because of sloppy work on the part of the ME?"

"Uh huh." The lawyer tapped on the computer monitor. "If I had any clients that had been convicted in part because of an autopsy done by him I would be raising ten kinds of hell. And that could be bad for us."

"As in you and Houston?" Chris watched her friend as she nodded, thoughtfully chewing her bottom lip. "So somebody that you worked to put away could get out...wow, not good."

"Not good at all. As a matter of fact it could be downright dangerous." She sat back down at the desk and thought for a moment.

"Guess I better get back to work." The secretary went back out to the reception area, leaving CJ alone to ponder over what she had learned.

Back in Lone Pine Matt was sitting in Wally Simmons' office looking at the information that the fingerprints of both shooters had revealed. "This one here – Damian Nicostratto – popped up in some of my research. Hang on..." He flipped open the laptop and retrieved the information. "He's worked for Bassinelli for about six years now. The dead guy isn't in here, though."

"Maybe we can get something out of this Nicostratto dude." Simmons took a sip of coffee and looked to Bateaux. "I told Gabriel to call me as soon as he's out of surgery."

"So it seems that the Miami family thinks that De Fiore or his people are behind the whole thing. If that was the case old Johnny wouldn't be stretched out on a slab at the Coroner's Office." Houston looked to Bateaux. "I wonder what gives?"

"Don't know. None of it makes any sense. I mean look at it: all five dons were killed at the same time by the same weapon. None of them are coming out winners. Even De Fiore's second in command got killed in the shootout."

"The second in command..." Matt closed the laptop and stood up, taking a sip of the coffee as he began pacing around the small office. "But what about the next guy down on the totem pole? You said yourself they're always jockeying for position."

"Well then, that would be Carmine Nunzio."

"Do we know where he is right now?" He watched as the agent pulled out his phone and began dialing, then went back to pacing. After a couple of minutes Bateaux hung up.

"Apparently he's at one of De Fiore's businesses. It's a junkyard and body shop over on Rush in El Monte. We've got surveillance on the way over there now."

"I think maybe we better head on back down to LA, Fibby." Houston took a large swallow of the coffee.

"You know Tammy is gonna be mad if you don't come to supper tonight." Simmons looked up at the PI and grinned.

"Tell her I'll have to take a raincheck." Knocking back the last of the coffee, he turned and began putting the laptop back into the case. "For that matter y'all need to come down to the ranch sometime."

"We could do that I reckon." Wally picked up his keys and took the pair back to the airport and the waiting helicopter. "Tell the family hello for me."

"I'll sure do it." A few minutes later the two men were airborne and flying back toward Los Angeles, both quiet as they thought over what they knew so far.

Bateaux quietly looked out at the landscape that they were quickly passing through. "We're getting pressure from the boss to get this wrapped up as quickly as possible."

"I'd be surprised otherwise." Houston glanced over at the agent. "You know...I've been thinking about Pilkins and Gonzales. I wonder if they were knocked off because they knew too much or if it was because they worked for De Fiore and the Miami family just assumed they were part of it."

"Don't know. Our agents in Miami have been monitoring the family down there. Bassinelli's second in command – Luca Bernardi – hasn't missed a beat – he stepped right on up and took control. But New York – that's another story. There isn't any clear evidence as to who is in control right now – at least as far as our people have been able to determine. Albricci was fairly new as the head of the family; he was hand-picked by Calabrezi to take over when the time came – spent years as the second in command."

"What about the Chicago and New Orleans crews?"

"Sarto was in control of Chicago for about ten years or so. Calm, kind of easy-going, not a whole lot of publicity. He took care of business quietly. From what our people there tell me his second is taking command without any interference. The New Orleans bunch has been known to be rowdy at times but since all this went down they've been surprisingly quiet. As far as we know the second there is in charge without any challenges."

"CJ said that Bassinelli thought he had a mole problem; now we have the explosion and the boss is dead. It seems that the Miami family is the only one taking any action. Coincidence?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"So far that's about all we have – guesses."

Matt landed on the patio of the Houston Industries Building and shut down the engine. As he and Alex came in through the double doors they were met by CJ. "So you two decided to come back, huh?"

Bateaux was the first to answer. "My boss is sending someone else up to talk to our surviving shooter in Lone Pine. He wants me to update him in person." The last was said less than enthusiastically.

"Knock 'em dead, Fibby." Houston punched him in the shoulder.

After saying their goodbyes to the agent, the Houstons went back into CJ's office and she shared her findings with him. "So our former ME just keeps giving us problems, huh?" Matt shook his head and listened quietly as she pointed out her worries about convictions possibly being overturned. "Guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it – and hope like hell that it doesn't actually happen." He looked at his watch. "Think my beautiful wife will give me a ride back home or will I need to hitch hike?"

"Didn't your daddy ever tell you that was dangerous?" CJ laughed as she picked up her purse and keys.

"Oh, he warned me about a lot of things. Like rattlesnakes..." They kissed. "And beautiful women..." They shared a longer kiss as they waited for the elevator, leaving Chris to roll her eyes when they left.

Later that night after the kids were put to bed, Matt was sitting in the home office and looking through what they had on the investigation so far when his phone rang. "Hey, Michael. What's up?"

"I just had a little chat with Columbo and he was surprisingly talkative."

"Do tell?"

"Uh huh. It seems there's been quite a bit more drama going on in the Los Angeles family than the FBI knew. Columbo swears that Carmine Nunzio has to be the one behind the attack."

"How does he figure that?"

"About a month ago De Fiore sent him to Pastorelli's Restaurant to pick up Nunzio. While he was driving him back to De Fiore's house, Nunzio almost dropped his cell phone and accidentally hit the speaker button. Columbo heard a woman's voice saying that it was all set up - all they needed was the date of the meeting. Nunzio switched the speaker off real quick and Columbo made like he hadn't heard anything."

"And let me guess: the woman on the other end of the call was none other than Sharon Plessy?"

"You've got it. And he also says that the mole that Bassinelli was concerned about was one of Plessy's former employees: Blaine Richey."

"You don't say. So that makes all four of her former employees dead now. Dead men tell no tales."

"Exactly. He says that he tried to talk to De Fiore about it, but that he just laughed at him; said Sharon wouldn't do something like that to him. "

"Love is blind, huh? Hmph." He propped his feet up on the desk. "So is he willing to testify to all that?"

"He is. I've already been in contact with the US Marshals – they're prepared to set him up in the witness protection program. He's also going to be moved to a safehouse as soon as the doctor releases him."

"Do we know when that will be?"

"Not sure yet. The guard on his room has been doubled. I also doubled the guard on Angioli so that no one would get suspicious."

"Way to go, Gramps. You've still got a move or two left." Snickering as he heard the cop's cursing reply he stood up and stretched. "So what about Plessy? Is Giovanni still watching her?"

"I sent Valdez and Trenton to relieve her. Figured we better double up on that coverage, too, given what I've learned about her tonight."

"So De Fiore's girlfriend and his third in command set him up." He began walking around the office. "But why the mole in Miami?"

"Don't know. Columbo said that he overheard her talking to someone on the phone but all he got out of the conversation was Richey's name and Miami. He couldn't hear the rest of it." Hoyt yawned. "And now I'm going home. I've had enough of the mob for one day."

"Have you told Alex and the others about it?"

"No..." There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "Since you're the boss of this operation I figured that was your job." He snickered.

"Well, I guess you do need to go on home and get to bed seeing as how you probably missed your nap today, Gramps." The reply from the cop consisted of more curses and the PI chuckled as he hung up on his friend and set about calling the other members of the group.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

"Houston." Matt hadn't checked the caller ID before answering and it took him a minute to come out of the stupor of sleep to realize that he was talking to Detective Richard Valdez.

"Hey, we're outside of Plessy's place. A wrecker just picked up a car and hauled it out of here covered with a tarp. The LT wanted me to let you know."

"A tarp?" He sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the clock: 3:18AM. "Mmmm. Okay..." Rubbing his eyes he thought for a moment. "Has anything else happened?"

"Nope. It's been quiet up until now."

"Where was the wrecker from?"

"Rush Wreckers out of El Monte."

"I bet that's De Fiore's company." Matt began putting on his clothes. "Do we know what kind of car she has?"

"The LT was going to check on it." Valdez stifled a yawn.

"Okay, thanks for the call." Houston hung up and continued dressing as CJ sat up on one elbow.

"What's up with the wrecker?"

"I'm not sure." He passed on what Valdez had told him. "Most folks don't have cars picked up at three in the morning from their home. I wonder if maybe it has some damage to it – caused by running Dale Bishop off of the road."

"Good point. You want me to come with you?"

"No, no point. I'll call you later." Leaning back over he gave her a kiss. "Love you."

"Love you..." She watched as he put a cap on his head, tucked his Glock into the waistband of his jeans, and started down the hallway. "And don't forget your therapy apointment."

"Uh huh." The reply was accompanied by a yawn and in a minute she heard the kitchen door close and the sound of the truck's engine.

Stopping at a Burger Nerd just off of the Pacific Coast Highway, Matt picked up a cup of coffee and a couple of biscuits. Just as he pulled back out onto the highway his phone rang. With a biscuit-muffled voice he spoke. "Mornin', Gramps."

"Don't even start with me on that – it's too damn early, PI."

Houston took a gulp of coffee and then cursed himself for burning his tongue. "Did you find out about Plessy's car?"

"Yeah, it's a 2014 BMW 325i Coupe - silver. Bet that the paint matches the transfer we found on Dale Bishop's Volvo."

"I bet you're right."

"I've already called Alex and he's supposed to contact the agents that he has watching the place and let them know what's going on."

"Alright. Want to meet up at fire station 90? It's about a block west of there."

"Fine."

The early hour working in his favor, Matt made the trip much quicker than he had anticipated and was finishing his second biscuit as Michael pulled into the parking lot next to him and got into the truck. "Where's mine?"

"You didn't place an order." Houston drank down more of the coffee.

In a minute they were joined by Bateaux who smiled as he shook a piece of paper in the air. "We've got a warrant, boys."

"Which judge did you roust out of bed?" Hoyt yawned.

"Pattons. He owed me a favor."

"I sure ain't gonna ask why." The PI grinned. "How do you want to work it?" He pulled up a satellite image of the business and looked at the layout.

"According to our surveillance unit the gate was left open when the wrecker came in with Plessy's car. I'll hit the front with the unit we already have on scene and you two can cover the back."

"Okay. It would probably be a little quicker if you and I rode together, Michael. And judging from what I see here..." He turned the laptop so that the lieutenant could see the image. "...we would be better off in the truck. It's kind of rough back there. Wouldn't want you to tear up your ride."

"Fine." Hoyt slid out of the truck and all three men began putting on their vests and checking their weapons. As he got back into the truck the cop looked over at his friend. "Are you going to be okay with that hand?"

"Yep. No problem." Houston cranked up the engine, following Alex out of the parking lot and east on Rush for a little over a block before cutting the lights and turning right into the entrance of the body shop and salvage yard. The surveillance vehicle fell in behind them. As he eased the truck around to the back of the shop, the PI spoke. "You ready?"

"Uh huh." Both men slid out of the truck, leaving the doors partially open in an effort to keep from making noise. Matt tried to open the steel door that was on the back of the building but found that it was locked. As the PI knelt down to remove the set of lockpicks that he always carried in his left boot, they heard Bateaux and his team of agents as they went through the front door of the business. In a matter of seconds the back door was opened knocking Matt flat on his back as two men rushed out. Hoyt grabbed one of them and flung him to the ground, wrestling to get the cuffs on him.

Recovering from the blow, Houston got to his feet and began chasing the other man out into the salvage yard. Darting behind a row of vehicles, the man disappeared from view as the PI approached with his weapon drawn, carefully peering around the back of a car into the near-darkness. His eyes caught a glimpse of movement at the end of the row as his suspect worked his way around to the next row of cars and trucks. Matt went on down to the same row, once again ducking his head around for a quick look. The lack of light was even worse and he could barely make out the vehicles. The sounds of arguing were coming from the building and the PI did his best to listen for any movement around him. In a matter of seconds he heard a _thump_ and then a sliding sound that seemed to be coming from the next row. He cautiously advanced and as he approached the rear of a pickup that was parked on the end a man came creeping out, not seeing the PI as he was flattened against the left rear wheel of the Chevy. In a swift movement, Matt jumped forward and tackled the man at his knees, the pair hitting the ground. A wrestling match ensued that was ended quickly as the PI grabbed the man's left arm and twisted it around behind him, a screech coming from the suspect. "Get the other hand back here now... do it!" With a curse, the man did as he was told and found himself cuffed. A beam of light from a bobbing flashlight drew near the two and Matt swung around, his pistol aimed at the source of the light until he heard a familiar voice.

"Houston! Where are you?" Hoyt stopped short as the light hit the PI squarely in the eyes.

"Sitting here going blind – would you lower the light, please?" As he got to his feet he instructed the suspect to bend his knees and helped him to his feet. None too gently he pushed the man against the side of the truck and began checking him for weapons. "Alright, smartass – you've got a shoulder holster – where's the pistol?" His answer was silence. Pulling the man's wallet out of his back pocket he flipped it open as Hoyt shined the flashlight on it. "No ID." He handed it to Hoyt and started back toward the building. Once inside, both detectives got a good look at him. "Well, Michael – I do believe we've found a ghost. If I'm not mistaken this is Blaine Richey – the mole from Miami." His statement was met with a glare from the prisoner. "How ya doin', Blaine?" There was no response as the man looked up at the ceiling. "Tell ya what, Michael - I'm going to leave him here with you and borrow your flashlight..." The cop handed it over. "I'm going to go find the pistol that belongs with that holster."

Back outside, the PI went back over the path he had traveled while following the man and as he reached the far end of the third row of cars he found the pistol on the ground underneath the back end of a Prius. After pulling a glove out of his back pocket, he picked picked up the weapon and went back to the shop.

Hoyt had a large smile on his face. "It's Plessy's car alright and there's damage on the left front. And in case you didn't notice – we got Nunzio, too."

"Guess it's time to bring them back in and ask some more questions." He dropped the pistol into an evidence bag that the lieutenant handed him.

Back at the station, Houston settled down into a chair in one of the interrogation rooms as Alex read Blaine Richey his rights. "So..." The agent had a seat and looked over at the man. "Which do you prefer – LA or Miami?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I want a lawyer."

"Who shall I say is calling?" Bateaux gave a crooked smile. "You don't have any ID on you, you won't tell us who you are...do you really think a lawyer will represent you if he doesn't know who you are?" There was nothing but silence from the man. "Okay, I'll see what I can do – but if you want to attempt to bail out you'll have to give us a name." The two investigators left the room and went back to Hoyt's office where the cop was on the phone. Both men had a seat on the couch, Matt propping his feet up on the coffee table and lowering the cap over his eyes. In a minute Michael ended the call.

"Comfy?"

"I suppose."

"I just sent a unit to pick up Sharon Plessy."

"Bet she won't be any happier to see us this time than she was the last."

"I also got a fingerprint match; that's definitely Blaine Richey that we have in interrogation."

"Oh, yeah. He wants a lawyer." The PI yawned.

"Naturally."

"So how do you think it went?" Bateaux looked between the two men and stifled a yawn.

"It would seem that he and Plessy were in cahoots somehow." Michael leaned back in the chair yawning as well. "What do you think, PI?"

"Well..." Matt took the cap off and ran a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking about that. Blaine was in Miami, but how did he get close enough to Bassinelli in such a short amount of time? I mean the mob guys don't let just anybody walk through the big man's door. Seems to me that there's at least one more person involved in this whole thing – somebody from the Miami family that vouched for him and let him in."

Hoyt considered that for a moment. "But if they thought he was a mole...wouldn't they have taken out who ever vouched for him?"

"You would think so." All three sat in silence for a minute. "Fibby, did you ever find out who our dead shooter from Lone Pine was?"

"Uh huh. A guy by the name of David De Palma. He did "odd jobs" for the Miami family."

"Do your people have any idea whose job it was to get rid of the mole?"

"No...but I think I see where you're going with this. Whoever was supposed to take Blaine for a nice long ride in the swamp didn't kill him – they let him go."

"And they might just be part of the reason that he was in Miami to begin with."

"So maybe Bassinelli didn't kill who ever spoke for Richey; maybe he gave them the job of disposing of him and they let him walk instead."

"Makes sense in a round about way." Michael stood up and stretched, looking out into the lobby. "Looks like Plessy is here and she isn't happy at all." The other two followed him out of the office and down the hallway. The cop stopped and turned back to them. "Houston, you have a way with the ladies; why don't you try your luck with Plessy?"

"Alright."

"I'll go with him." The FBI agent stifled yet another yawn and led the way into the interrogation room where she was now handcuffed to the table. "Miss Plessy..." He had a seat at the table. "I'd like to remind you of your rights once again." The Miranda Warning was recited. "We would like to ask you some questions about your relationship with Johnny De Fiore."

"My relationship...? What business is it of your's who I have a relationship with?"

"Alex, let me rephrase that for you." Matt stared across the table at the woman. Sitting in the harsh light of the room without any makeup on, she was far from beautiful. "We know that you had a relationship with Mr. De Fiore. We also know that he is now deceased, as well as four other known Mafia leaders from across the country and several of their associates."

"That doesn't have anything to do with me at all."

"We also know that you worked with Carmine Nunzio." He watched as her eyes narrowed, the glare she shot him across the table making her look even older in the bright lights of the room.

"I want my lawyer."

"Okay." He stayed seated as Bateaux started to rise from his chair. "You know, I've dealt with mob folks before. They have a funny way of taking care of problems on their own." Plessy shifted uneasily in the chair. "In some ways I gotta say it's more efficient than our justice system." Pausing, he continued to stare at her. "Five bosses dead, several of their buddies, and three of your former employees." He saw a flicker of worry. "Yeah, we know Blaine isn't dead. Matter of fact he's down the hallway right now making a statement." A sly grin crossed his features. "According to what I overheard a canary ain't got nothin' on him when it comes to singing." He chuckled as did Bateaux who was now leaning back in his chair looking amused. "Plus we're testing the paint on your car. Bet it matches up with the transfer on Dale Bishop's car from where you ran him off the road. Funny, your sister died the same way. Did you take her out, too? Was she getting to be an embarrassment with her drugs – or did you just get tired of Johnny going back and forth between you two?"

"I'm not saying anything."

"Fine." Houston got up and went over to the small window and looked out. "I kind of like story telling. Let me see if I've got this one right." He began walking around the room. "You and Nunzio were seeing each other behind Johnny's back. He has high ambitions – wants to be the man in charge. And you had Johnny wrapped around your finger. Carmine knew that the five families were talking about a big meet and he also knew about the storage facility – specifically the wine storage area in the basement." She stared at her hands, staying quiet. "So you and he got together and brainstormed and came up with the plan for Johnny to host the meeting. Guess y'all figured that if all five of the dons were taken out at once that the families would blame each other. Only who would blame the LA family? Johnny got killed, too. How am I doing so far?" He was behind her now, leaning over with his left hand on the table. She remained quiet.

"I think it sounds pretty good." Alex watched the woman's expression.

"Blaine was sent down to Miami to make Bassinelli worry that he had a mole. And your contact there was supposed to take him out and whack him. But instead..." He circled the room again. "Blaine is alive and well." He paused again. "And your contact in Miami is now head of the family."

Plessy was now looking at her nails, her hands noticiably shaking.

"And he sent David De Palma up here to take out Gonzales and Pilkins." Leaning on the table facing her he gave her an almost evil grin. "So how is Luca Bernardi doing anyway?"

"I don't know who you're talking about." Plessy tried for a confident look.

"Oh, I think you do. And I also think if you want any chance at surviving for any length of time, you better come clean and tell us everything. Or has it occurred to you that since Luca is now head of the Miami family and Nunzio has the LA family – neither one of them really has a use for you anymore?"

"I want my lawyer."

"Fine." Matt turned to the door. "But remember what I said – your services are no longer needed. They've both got what they wanted. And you're just extra baggage."

The two men stepped out of the room and met Michael as he came out of the observation room where he had been monitoring the interrogation. "You did a good job in there. She looks scared."

"She oughta be. These folks don't play around. So what about Nunzio?"

"His lawyer is on the way." Hoyt looked past the PI and nodded. "If I was a betting man I would bet that's him right there." The other two turned to see a man of about fifty with silver gray hair as he spoke with one of the detectives in the squad room and was directed to the hallway where they were gathered.

"I'm looking for Carmine Nunzio." His eyes landed on Hoyt.

"He's right down here. Are you his lawyer?"

"I am. What exactly is the reason why he was brought in?"

"He's a possible accomplice in the murders of five people – for starters."

"Hmph. We'll see about that." He followed the cop down the hallway and both disappeared inside the interrogation room.

Houston yawned and looked at his watch. "Think I'm going to go catch a nap." Turning, he went back to Michael's office and flopped down on the couch once again.

Bateaux walked over to the windows and looked out on the street where traffic was now going by during the early rush hour. "So what do you think? Will Sharon Plessy confess?"

Matt pulled the cap down over his eyes and propped his boots up on the coffee table. "Don't know. She's pretty tough – but I do believe we might've put the fear into her."

"We? Huh...more like you. I was just there as an audience." The agent chuckled. "I think that last part you told her about her services no longer being needed got to her."

"It's true. Unless Nunzio really has the hots for her I suspect she's become a liability."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

"There you are." CJ stood up behind her desk as Matt walked up the steps to her office. "How'd the therapy session go?"

"Just fine." He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "They gave me some exercises to do and I go back in a week. It's already doing better. See?" He wiggled the fingers on his right hand and pulled her into a big hug. "Happy now?"

"Somewhat." She sat back down. "I talked to Michael a little while ago. Blaine Richey has decided to cut a deal."

"Good. Any news about Nunzio and Plessy?" He sat on the loveseat.

"Nope." She swiveled in the chair thoughtfully. "You know, it would be in both of their best interests to cooperate. With the Chicago, New Orleans, and New York families ticked off I don't see them living."

"Not to mention part of the Miami and LA families who probably didn't know what was going down."

"They're both in too deep to get immunity. The best they can hope for is leniency in sentencing. But even at that they'll both probably get life. If I was their lawyer I would advise them to cooperate fully – and beg for mercy from the court."

"CJ..." Chris stuck her head in the door. "Michael is on line one."

"Thanks." She picked up the receiver and punched the speaker button. "Hi, Michael."

"We've had a development in the last hour. Nunzio is going to turn state's evidence."

Matt spoke up. "What about Plessy?"

"She won't have any of it. Her lawyer advised her to work a deal before the other two did and she refused."

"They're all going to end up doing time."

"So have you talked to Rich and Mitchell?" Houston stood up and began walking around the office.

"Just got off the phone with both of them. Mitchell says that he's surprised that Nunzio turned and Plessy didn't."

"You can lead a horse to water..."

"Now we all get the fun of going through the trial. Oh well, all I know is that this turned out a lot better than I expected – and a lot quicker, too. It's surprising when you stop to think about who was in charge."

"Uh huh..." Matt plopped down on the love seat. "And look who nominated me to be the leader."

"What can I say – we all have our moments of insanity." Hoyt hung up the phone laughing as he went out to the lobby and got a cup of coffee.


End file.
